


Sunburn

by astrangerenters



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: F/M, Final Fantasy Kiss Battle, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:44:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a given from the day she was born that she would be matched with someone not of her own choosing. But Ashe can think of no better match than the sunburnt face before her, the head on her pillow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunburn

"Does the sun fail to shine on Nabudis?" Ashe teases as she climbs onto what little room on the mattress Rasler has left for her. "Are you so unused to it?"

He grimaces in response, and the wrinkling of his features only serves to irritate him more.

"Nabudis receives abundant sunshine," he grits out, the skin of his face showcasing the most unnatural red color Ashe has seen in her life. "But Nabudis is not Rabanastre."

"No indeed," Ashe replies simply, twisting the top of the bottle of salve. She'd had to send one of her handmaidens out quietly lest anyone else inside the palace walls discover the young prince in such a sorry state. To the bazaar the girl had gone, paying for the salve with coin from the princess' own purse.

Ashe keeps her expression as neutral as she can manage, though she desperately wants to laugh. Rasler had been out on the castle ramparts for hours that afternoon, surveying the capital that is now his second home. He'd stayed out far too long without seeking shade, and there hadn't been a cloud in the sky. She's now blessed with a husband bearing a ripe apple of a face, and she hopes that the salve will soothe him.

In the first days, they had been so hesitant. Though they'd been paired from a young age, they'd always been chaperoned. Polite nods, practiced words. Distance. Married life, Ashe has learned, is a completely different arena. One where it is altogether expected to touch and be touched in return.

And so she dips her fingers into the salve, feeling its cool, creamy texture on her skin. Surely this will bring him some measure of comfort. He winces a bit at the first feeling of her fingers against his forehead, his cheeks, but gradually he shuts his eyes and sighs, experiencing blessed relief. The red remains, but hopefully the pain will not.

Even when she's done a thorough job, her fingers linger upon his slick skin. This man is no longer just the prince from over the mountains, from the labyrinthine palace halls of grand Nabudis. This man is hers, and she is his. And together they will see things through. She lets her touch drift past his strong chin, his full cheeks, hearing him hum appreciatively at her care.

She'd been so scared, and some of this is still frightening. The expectations on them both, the hours spent scanning the horizon, waiting for Archadia to strike. Having someone in her bed who is not a snoring old nursemaid.

Ashe was born for duty, to serve and guard Dalmasca. It was a given from the day she was born that she would be matched with someone not of her own choosing. But Ashe can think of no better match than the sunburnt face before her, the head on her pillow. He'd only ended up this way because he wants to love Rabanastre as she does. He'd been surveying the capital, learning her city that is now also his to serve and guard. In time, Ashe thinks with a grin, he will learn Rabanastre's sun as well as its walls.

She puts the top back on the bottle, setting it down on the bedside table before curling up at his side. When she feels his lips brush against her forehead in a gentle kiss, his embarrassed, murmured "thank you" almost lost in her hair, she knows that loving him will be easy.


End file.
